Dat Curl
by Mutley1996
Summary: You've always wondered, why did countries like America and Norway have curls? What did they do, and what do they represent? Only one way to find out... (OC Ireland x Hetalia)
1. Introduction

You were bored. You had nothing to do on that dreary afternoon, so you were flicking through your old pictures from various World Conferences. You were the personification of Ireland (sorry guys, hope you like my choice of country!) and glancing through the various photos of random moments in the Conferences over the years was a really good way to spend time. You chuckled to yourself at a photo of America proclaiming loudly about how he was the hero, and at another photo of France getting throttled by England, with Scotland face-palming in the background, as he turned the innocent Seychelles away from the scene. Another photo of Sweden being led out of the conference during one of Germany's drabbles, hand in hand with the ever-happy Finland.

Wow, it was amazing all the memories one photo could hold. It was a real eye-opener, you had forgotten so much of these countries' pasts and histories. You were about to close the book when you noticed one photo of Spain and Romano. Spain had his arm draped over Romano's chair lazily, his fingers tangled in the dark locks of Romano's hair. it was a normal enough photo, until you noticed the look on Romano's face. He was as red as a tomato, and sat up completely rigid, eyes turned towards Spain in shock.

Oh, his curl! Thats what it was. Spain had brushed his fingers onto Romano's curl, thats what caused the (to be honest, pretty funny) reaction from him.

_Hmmm..._ you thought to yourself. I wonder was that still the case now? Did pulling his curl still make him make that face? You had no idea why he reacted that way, you assumed it just hurt him or something.

_I should try this out, eh? Could be a bit of fun, and I'm bored anyways..._

You got up from your comfy position on the couch, and ambled over to the phone in the hallway. Who to call, who to call...? You pondered in your head. Making a mental checklist, you discounted America, Canada, Italy, Romano, Austria, Greece, Turkey, South Korea, Denmark, and Norway. Even though Denmark didn't even _have_ a curl, there was no way on planet Earth a man with an ego (and hair) that big and gravity-defying wasn't hiding any secrets. Ok, that left you with a sizable portion of the countries, good enough.

Actually, there were a few countries you could rule out pretty quickly too, regardless of their hairstyle. Anyone who wasn't very... fun, you could put it, was ruled out, so that meant Germany, Japan, and all the other pretty uptight guys were gone pretty quickly. No offense to them, but there was no way they would ever agree to such a thing. Ever. So there was no real point considering them. You'd need someone with connections, but who really didn't care hugely about other countries, or were just blissfully unaware. You didn't mean to be cruel, thinking that, but you needed someone who didn't know what the curls did, like you, and be willing to violate other countries "vital regions" to find out.

That left you with three main "contestants" for this plan.

1. Spain, who had no curl, and as he was blissfully unaware of many things, so he probably didn't know about what the curls did, and would be happy to help. Plus, he had connections to people like Romano and therefore Feliciano too!

2. Scotland, who had no curl, and he was one of those types who would be just up for a laugh. he might take a tad more convincing then the others... I should invite him out for drinks, that'll do it. And he knows Ireland can hold her drink, so he'd say yes. Even though he took a backseat in most world conferences, he was an established, older country, and was related to England, so he could easily get numbers. Plus, he lived close by (just across the Irish sea)

3. And Prussia. he had no curl, and the "awesome" him would happily say yes, whether he knew what the curls were or not. He basically needed no convincing, and was Germany's older brother, so he had connections.

_Who to pick, who to pick...? _You thought, your delicate hands skimming over the phonebook, the home phone delicately cradled between your neck and shoulder. Picking one randomly, you dialled the number, exhaling sharply when you heard the voice of...

* * *

**Hey guys, you lucky people get to pick who you mess around with. Will it be Scotland, Spain, or Prussia? Leave me a review of who you want it to be, and the country with the most votes wins! This is mainly just a bit of fun, so it might get discontinued after a couple chapters... then again, I'm a perfectionist, and I hate loose ends xD Until then, mi amigos!**


	2. Who is on ze line?

_Who to pick, who to pick...? You thought, your delicate hands skimming over the phonebook, the home phone delicately cradled between your neck and shoulder. Picking one randomly, you dialled the number, exhaling sharply when you heard the voice of..._

Howr-ya, lassies an' laddies! Scotl'nd ain't here ah ta minut', bu laeve ay message an' all get back t'ya soon! Voicemail. Seriously? "Scotland, pick up the bloody phone, you're missing out on the prank of a lifetime here! Just sayin' Slán leat mo chara*" You said, hanging up on him. If he wasn't gonna pick up, as he was probably out at the pub anyways at the moment, that crossed him off the list. Now, Spain or Prussia?

After a minute or so of deliberating, you rang Prussia.

You heard his voice on the end of the phone, as well as some cursing as it clattered to the floor. _He must have dropped it, the idiot... _you thought.

"Hello? Who iz speaking to ze awesome Prussia?"

"Well, idiot, if you'd looked at the phone before you answered it, you'd know!" You told him sarcastically.

"Ahhh, Ireland! How is mein frau? What are you calling ze awesome me for?" Hah, he knew it was you just from your sarcasm.

"I need you to help me with a prank. Do I need to say any more?" You replied, with a smirk growing on your face.

"A prank? Did you even need to ask zis awesomeness to help you in un prank? Count zis awesome Prussian in!" He yelled, so loud that you had to hold the phone away from your ear. You still wanted your eardrums intact by the time this conversation was over, thank you very much... At least he's in, I guess. You didn't need to call Spain anymore, seeing as Prussia had agreed so quickly.

"Uhhh, Ireland? Mein frau? You still zere? I said you owe me a drink for zhis" Prussia called through the phone, without even a hint of worry in his voice. He was just concerned you wouldn't be bringing any booze. You always did when you met up with Prussia, you were IRELAND, and he was PRUSSIA, for crying out loud. Those drinking contests were always fun, as you could both hold your drink well.

"Sure, whatever. meet me at my house tomorrow, k?" You mumbled through the phone as you pulled a small notepad towards you, taking note of all the countries you wrote down there who have a curl as you hung up on Prussia. Hell, he was too busy saying that his awesomeness would be over there anyways, he probably didn't even notice you hanging up.

So, Prussia is gonna help me prank America, Canada, Italy, and so on and so forth. Who should be get first?

* * *

***Goodbye my friend (Irish/Scottish gaelic)**

**So, the "Awesome" Prussia is helping you prank these unsuspecting countries? (Poor guys...) who do you want to prank first?**

**America, ****Canada, ****Italy, ****Romano, ****Austria, ****Greece, ****Turkey, **** , ****Denmark, ****Norway**

**Send me your choice as a review, and the one that gets picked the most times is who I'll do next ^-^ Until then, bye, mi amigos!**


End file.
